The goblin continued, "I won't waste words with idle chatter. The Void Realm passage we discovered this time is a Level 2 passage. The highest individual sorcery power it can accommodate is a fully unfurled Two Wings. Therefore, this operation is not a national war, but merely a low-intensity hunting festival.
"This operation requires teams of five. You may form groups freely, or you may be placed into random teams—don't interrupt, hear me out. The reason five-man teams are strictly required is because the Moon Shadow priests will be bestowing the Blood Moon blessing upon you.
"The blessing applies to groups of five. Its effects include over a dozen buffs such as Marathon, Demon Mode, Peak Efficiency, Self-Healing, Hardening, Mind Resistance, and Feather Hover, but most importantly, it establishes a 'Life Link' lasting forty-eight hours between your team members. Anyone who doesn't want the Blood Moon blessing may raise their hand."
The adventurers, who had started to voice complaints, fell quiet at once. Even Yaxiu was tempted. Setting aside the various buffs, the lure of 'Life Link' was simply too great. During the 422 Incident, healers had used this miracle to save hundreds of lives, which had made it easy for Yaxiu to look up information about it on the Curtain.
As the name implied, this miracle established a life link among a group of people. For instance, between fifty healthy individuals and fifty casualties. Once the link was forged, the healthy individuals' vitality would flow steadily into the wounded, granting them rapid self-healing.
Moreover, so long as the link remained, the injured would never succumb to their wounds—effectively locking in their last drop of life!
When healers were shorthanded, this miracle could preserve the lives of numerous casualties, buying crucial time for emergency care.
When applied to an adventurer team, it was the ultimate life-saving talisman. Because it was a passive effect, the other members would have no choice but to obediently supply you with vitality even if they were unwilling. No matter how selfish an adventurer was, none would refuse an extra layer of insurance for themselves.
Seeing that no one raised a hand, the goblin continued, "Once I finish speaking, free team formation will begin. For adventurers who do not wish to form teams freely, we will also provide random matchmaking. However, one point must be made clear in advance—the random teams will enter the passage in the first few batches, whereas the pre-formed teams will enter only after the random teams have gone in."
Yaxiu's eyes flickered. He understood immediately that the random teams were expected to serve as cannon fodder.
Although it had already been confirmed as a stable Void Realm passage, more than a day had passed since 'Rabbit' returned. It was hard to say whether unexpected changes had occurred on the other side. Compared to organized teams capable of coordinated combat, random teams—a heap of filth together and a scatter of shit apart—were naturally far better suited to act as scouts to break the deadlock.
No wonder they were being granted 'Life Link.' The organizers simply hoped they would hold out a little longer to buy time for the adventurers following behind.
"Naturally, the teams entering first will receive additional rewards," the goblin said calmly. "For now, the random teams are tentatively scheduled to enter in the first three batches. Each batch will consist of five teams, with an interval of three minutes between batches. Teams in the first batch will receive 300 points of pioneer merit; the second batch, 200 points; the third batch, 100 points. Within each batch, the first team will receive an additional eighty percent pioneer merit, the second team fifty percent, the third team thirty percent, the fourth team ten percent, and the fifth team zero percent."
In other words, the first team of the first batch would directly receive 540 merit points (300 × 1.8). This was the incentive offered to the vanguard—provided they made it back alive to spend it.
Yaxiu had little grasp of the local prices in the war zone, but hearing the surrounding adventurers suck in a sharp breath that seemed to chill the camp's air, he knew 540 merit points packed considerable purchasing power.
An adventurer raised a hand to ask, "What if an adventurer guild sneaks into the random teams?"
"We don't mind," the goblin replied indifferently, pointing toward the tents beside the raised platform. "As you can see, there are three rows of tents to my left. Facing the platform, the first row corresponds to the first batch, and the first tent on the left belongs to the first team.
"The blessings will begin at 11:15. I expect every tent to be filled with five people before then." The goblin pushed up his spectacles. "And so, the team-formation phase begins. Oh, and one more thing—no killing allowed."
Facing a crowd of fierce, cutthroat adventurers, the goblin was as calm as if dealing with a flock of sheep. He finished his piece and stepped down from the platform. Before he departed, not a single adventurer made a move; the crowd gathered beneath the platform even parted to make way for him.
Raw power was indeed terrifying, but authority likewise forced men to bow their heads.
The moment the goblin vanished into the largest tent, a sorcerer suddenly smashed a long table, hauled a hand cannon from a crate, and officially raised the curtain on the brawl!
Gunfire roared like thunder as several adventurer guilds drew their firearms and exchanged volleys!
Before the operation had even begun, the adventurers turned on one another just to secure their positions!
Their objective was glaringly obvious—the first team of the first batch, worth 540 merit points!
In essence, the danger across the first three batches was virtually identical. If the risk level of the third batch's fifth team was a ten, then the first batch's first team was at most a twenty.
If an ambush truly awaited on the other side of the passage, the first three batches would all have to fight for their lives. But if there wasn't, the first team of the first batch stood to reap the greatest reward.
Nearly everyone daring enough to be an adventurer was a blood-licking fanatic whose gambling addiction made regular labor intolerable. Faced with such staggering returns, how could they not stake it all on one roll of the dice?
They were ready to slaughter one another merely for the privilege of gambling with their lives.
Compared to the first team of the first batch, the returns for the other positions were far less impressive. The second and third batches carried similar risks, but their advantage lay in a significantly higher survival rate—after all, cannon fodder would be drawing the enemy's attention.
While the adventurer guilds were locked in their firefight, the true lone wolves began heading into the tents to assemble their teams. After a brief moment of thought, Yaxiu walked decisively toward the fifth tent in the first row.
He was different from the other adventurers. He had no intention of returning to the Blood Moon Country; the sooner he left the Blood Moon, the better. Thus, the first batch was his best option.
As for the fifth team of the first batch, it was without question the spot with the highest risk and the lowest value. The danger facing the fifth team was nearly the same as the first team's—if there was an ambush on the other side, the only difference was who died first and who died second. Yet the fifth team's reward was slashed by a wide margin. Unless someone had slipped through the cracks of basic education, no one would ever choose this spot.
For Yaxiu, however, the fifth team was nothing short of ideal. It offered the quickest exit from the Blood Moon while having four teams ahead to draw attention, giving him a fair chance of slipping through unnoticed.
Yet when Yaxiu lifted the tent flap, he discovered four people were already sitting inside.
The tent held three benches. On the right bench sat two masked figures. One was tall and burly, filing his nails with a nail file; the other was slender, hands thrust into his trouser pockets, where the faint clinking of steel balls could be heard.
The middle bench also seated a masked person. One could vaguely tell he had curly hair and dark skin. He was tearing open a Snow White wrapper, pinching out a piece of moon sugar and slipping it under his mask.
On the left bench lounged a masked figure in an indolent posture, narrow, enchanting fox-like eyes squinting slightly. When Yaxiu stepped inside, the corners of those eyes curved upward into a teasing smile.
Yaxiu decisively backed away, trying to slide back out. "Sorry, seems I went the wrong way. Pardon the intrusion—"
A hand seized his wrist. Just as Yaxiu prepared to fight back, a familiar voice instantly froze his body stiff.
"Don't forget, you still owe me a wish, my dear cult leader."
Igola pulled Yaxiu into the tent and reached out to peel down his mask, delight practically brimming over from his brows and eyes.
"What luck. Just when I needed some bait, you came throwing yourself right at me. This really is..."
"What a curse," Yaxiu sighed.
Chapter 163